


Free of Charge

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-18
Updated: 2010-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catelyn has an erotic dream about the rough sellsword Bronn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free of Charge

Sellswords weren't known for their loyalty or trustworthiness and this man Bronn had confirmed every ill thought held of his profession. Though in fairness Catelyn had to admit she'd hired him to escort her safely to the Eyrie and he had done so; his continued loyalty after their arrival had never been part of the contract. Still, it was hard not to feel betrayed by his new allegiance to the Imp. _To Lannister gold, not the Imp._

Giving up on sleep, Catelyn rose from bed and got dressed. The guard posted outside her chamber door started to follow her the moment she set foot into the hallway. Catelyn waved him away, wondering if he was there to protect her from chance harm or because her sister feared what she might do. She grimaced at the thought. She wanted to believe that Lysa had become unbalanced from the grief of losing her husband, but the fact that she had yet to wean her six year old son indicated problems that predated Jon Arryn's death.

The sellsword and the dwarf were in the cellar where the massive carts and pulleys brought up supplies to the castle. Lysa had wanted them gone at once, but Catelyn had persuaded her to wait until morning. Should Tyrion Lannister fall and break his neck, Tywin Lannister would hold them just as responsible as if Lysa had had him executed.

The Imp was asleep beneath his cloak, but the sellsword stood watchfully over his new master. "What do you want?" he asked when she approached. "M'lady," he added, clearly as an afterthought.

Catelyn was unsurprised. He was a skilled fighter so it must be his lack of manners that had kept him from winning a place in some lord's service thus far. "You know that you are not likely to make it out of the mountains alive. Why risk your life for gold you're unlikely to ever see?"

"You might as well ask why I don't stop fighting and take up farming."

So he enjoyed it then. Catelyn had known men like that and she thanked the gods that Ned was not one such.

"You're out of your bed at this hour because you're concerned for my skin? A man might get ideas." He laughed, low and laden with innuendo.

She should slap him. She should want to slap him. But she couldn't blame him. She didn't know why she'd come here herself. He moved toward her and Cat refused to step back.

"My sword's in Lannister's service now," he said, "But you can have my other sword. No charge either."

Catelyn did slap him then. She knew he could have stopped it, could have dodged the blow or caught her arm, but he let her hit him. He backed her against the wall and she should scream but there was no one to hear her other than the Imp anyway. He forced his mouth on hers. The stubble above his lips and on his chin and cheeks were harsh and scratchy, not soft like her husband's full beard.

Her hands were free. _Gouge his eyes_. But she found herself putting her arms around him instead. He grabbed her arse and held her tight against him. Cat could feel his manhood pressing into her belly - and the answering warmth and wetness between her legs.

He nipped at her neck and Cat tried to stay silent, afraid of waking the dwarf. The lies he'd told about Petyr telling lies about her would be nothing compared to what would be said if he saw her now. Bronn reached between them to squeeze her breasts and a moan escaped Cat's lips. She glanced fearfully at the Imp but he had not stirred.

Bronn started to unlace her bodice and that was strange because Cat was sure she'd put on a gown that laced in the back. She didn't remember him taking off her underthings, but the next thing she knew she was naked and the sellsword was inside her. She couldn't seem to keep quiet and yet the Imp still didn't wake up. _He must be deaf._

And then she woke up. Guilt at having a dream like that about a man like him tore at her, but Catelyn forced it away. It was only a dream and the Seven knew Ned had done more than just dream about another woman. She started to rise, then laid back with a sigh, unwilling to face Lysa just yet. There was no harm in resting a while longer.


End file.
